Picking Up the Pieces
by UlquiorraNoKokoro
Summary: Maybe one day I'll tell her my true feelings, when she's moved on. When I've finished picking up the pieces of her heart. When I've finished picking up the pieces of MY heart. / AU. KibaHina. One-shot. T for language.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

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She's at my door. She's crying. My heart quits working for a second.

She's wearing pink boots. The toes are turned in toward each other. Her breathing is heavy. The rain pitter-patters against her dark blue umbrella, which she's clutching so tightly I'm afraid she'll break it.

I grab her hands. "What's wrong, Hinata?"

She doesn't quit sobbing for another few seconds. Then she says, quietly, brokenly, "H-He r-r-rejected me."

I know immediately what she's talking about, and I have mixed feelings about it as I pull her into my arms and stroke her damp hair. She clutches the back of my sweater and sobs harder. I don't care that I'm getting wet and snotty. _I_ don't matter. She's the only thing in the world right now.

"Kiba…"

"Come on in, I'll heat up some cup ramen. Make you feel better."

She nods and hiccups. Her small hands let go of my sweater reluctantly.

I sat her down at my breakfast nook. She took off her heavy raincoat, revealing a simple blue dress. The pretty one she'd always wear when we hung out, she and I. The pretty one she'd wear, in hopes that _that_ guy would see her.

_That guy._

Is it strange to want to kill the guy who rejects the love of your life?

I dig some heat-up ramen out of the cabinet and stick it in the microwave. I punch in the number and watch the cup rotate inside.

"Kiba…"

"Yeah."

"I t-told him… I told Naruto-kun I l-loved him. And he…" I don't want to see how sad I know she looks. "He t-told me s-sorry. And he j-just stood there. He d-didn't even l-look at me." Her voice cracked, and she was crying again.

I press my lips together and hate that damn idiot. That damn, stupid, retarded, hurtful _bastard_! He's making a mistake by rejecting her. _Her_! The one person I'd give _anything_ to have!

I'm so busy hating him I forget there's cup ramen in the microwave, and when it beeps, I jump in surprise.

There's a small giggle from the breakfast nook. I'd normally get a little embarrassed and mad at her, but this time is different. This time her face is salty and wet and tear-sticky and anything that cheers her up is good.

I take the noodles from the microwave and dig some chopsticks out of the drawer and set them and the Styrofoam cup in front of her.

I sit down and watch her eat. I take in everything about her hungrily, like if I look away she'll disappear. Maybe she will.

Her long, darkish hair is down. It's sort of messy and stuck to her face in some places, but I think that somehow it just makes her more beautiful. Her cheeks are heated from the steam of the ramen and her eyelids are half-closed and her lips are soft and she's not paying attention to me at all because me staring at her is nothing new. She doesn't see it as something someone who's in love with her would do. She sees it as What Kiba Just Does. She doesn't give it a second thought.

She smells nice. Not like she put on perfume, but like that's just how she smells. It either naturally overpowers the ramen-smell or I just love her too much.

Akamaru comes in, because he can smell her too. He nudges her ankle and she smiles. It doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hello, Akamaru-kun."

She's smiling but her tone is so sad. Akamaru whines and settles between her feet. Sometimes I wonder who loves her more: me or the dog.

It doesn't take her long to finish. Being heartbroken makes you eat, whether you're hungry or not. I know that firsthand.

She puts the chopsticks on top of the bowl and is about to clean up before I tell her not to worry about it, I'll get it later.

"Come on, Hinata, let's go sit down."

She snivels and gets up.

I take her hand―it's soft and small and delicate and I wish I could hold it every day―and lead her into the TV room, sit her on the couch next to me. Akamaru curls up under the coffee table. I grab the remote and turn on the weather channel, low volume. It works when you don't want to think about anything.

"_Konoha―Expect sunshine all week."_

"Hear that, Hinata? Sunshine all week. Maybe the Big Guy's looking after you from up there."

She doesn't reply and leans her head on my shoulder. My face feels a little warmer than usual. I fiddle with the remote.

She doesn't speak for a while. Then she says softly, "Kiba, N-Naruto-kun can b-b-break my h-heart a hundred t-times, and I w-won't hate him. Is… is that weird?" Her voice is barely audible over the deep voice of the weather reporter.

"No, it's not weird." I pause. "I don't usually say corny stuff like this, but it's because you really love him."

"Kiba… will I ever f-fall in love with s-s-someone else?"

_Maybe the guy you're leaning on?_ "I don't know." I try to grin and sort of succeed. "But if and when you do, Naruto's gonna regret rejecting you. He'll realize that it was his worst mistake ever, Hinata, to neglect the best girl in the world."

She laughs a little, then leans into me. She sniffles. "Th-Thank you, Kiba. For b-being here for me."

I smile a little more and study the weather forecasts. Soon she's crying again. I put my arm around her tiny shoulders until she drifts off.

When I'm sure she's asleep, I get up and grab the warmest blanket I can find and the fluffy pillow off my bed. When I get back in the TV room, she's fallen over and her head's resting on the armrest. I ease the pillow under her head and drape the blanket over her sleeping form.

She's so beautiful.

I stroke her cheek and kiss her forehead. I gaze at her eyelids, her nose, her lips, her forehead and listen to the forecast for I don't know how long. I don't know what time it is when I get up. I don't know what time it is when my eyes start to water as I turn away from her.

Maybe one day I'll tell her my true feelings, when she's moved on. When I've finished picking up the pieces of her heart. When I've finished picking up the pieces of _my_ heart.

But for now, all I can do is be there for her. All I can do is be her shoulder.

And staring at the weather forecast, and hoping, praying she's not awake, that she can't hear me, I breathe, "I love you, Hinata."

As I leave the room, I flip off the light. The TV's still on, but I won't bother turning it off. It will help her sleep, and heaven knows that's exactly what she needs. I take one last look at her.

"Good night, Hinata."

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_**Thank you for reading!**_


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